


Mistletoe Kisses

by castlealbion



Category: Jack Lowden - Fandom
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castlealbion/pseuds/castlealbion
Summary: Jack and his s/o celebrate Christmas Eve together.





	Mistletoe Kisses

It was 8pm on Christmas Eve and the snow was coming down hard. You stood at the window watching, the full moon illuminating the crisp white landscape outside. Behind you, Jack shuffled around in the kitchen, finishing with the dishes from dinner. You could see his reflection in the window where he couldn’t see you watching him.

His flopped over his forehead, soft and fluffy when it wasn’t full of product. He bit his lip in concentration as he stretched to put away a casserole dish in the top cupboard, his t-shirt riding up to bare an inch of skin above the waistband of his sweatpants. In a bit over three years you never got tired of looking at him, though he still apparently couldn’t figure out why.

“Are we watchin the movie, luv?” he called as he slung the tea towel over the dish rack.

You turned from the window, smiling. He stood by the couch, blanket in one hand, dvd in the other.

“Of course we are babe.”

It was tradition, one started your first holiday together, your first in the UK. You had been feeling lonely, missing your family, but also happy to be with Jack. He’d taken it in, sent you shopping in the city with his sister and turned the flat into a Christmas wonderland. He’d held your hand when you teared up Skyping your mom, hung mistletoe in every room so he could kiss you everytime you walked by and made you laugh with his ridiculous commentary on your favorite Christmas movie.

Since then you’d alternated holidays with your families but he’d kept those traditions alive. You walked to the kitchen to make some popcorn, sensing him behind you. Deliberately you passed under the mistletoe he’d hung, smiling to yourself when you felt his hand gently on your hip. You stopped, letting him step up behind you, flush with your back.

Jack brushed your hair aside, pressing his lips to your neck.

“Merry Christmas Mrs Lowden.” he whispered.

You turned, your arms sliding around his slim waist, lifting your face up to grin stupidly at him. You absolutely loved it when he called you that.

“Merry Christmas Mr Lowden.”

He smiled before he kissed you, eyes bright as he pulled away.

“You’re an awfully good looking man, you know.” you grinned.

“Stop tha’.” he muttered, cheeks turning red.

You laughed, grabbing a bowl for the popcorn. Jack might have been a hotshot movie star, but underneath he was still a bit shy, still blushing whenever you made your attraction to him so obvious. So naturally you went overboard, often, just to see him squirm.

Turning from the microwave you giggled as he bent over at the fridge, his sweats pulling tight over his thighs and rear.

“Nice ass.”  
“Quit!” he was bright red, even his ears which you thought was absolutely adorable.

“Quit what?” you asked innocently, sauntering the few steps to where he stood, placing your hand on his hip as you circled around him. On your tiptoes you nuzzled your nose along the back of his neck, your hand sliding from his hip to his rear as you moved around him, squeezing.”

“Jesus woman, I thought ye were makin popcorn, not grabbin me bum like I’m a piece o meat.”

He was smiling though.

“But it's such a nice bum, babe.” you squeezed again, laughing as you moved off to get the popcorn.

Jack went into the lounge, muttering under his breath and shaking his head. He might act like he was bothered, but he loved it and later, as always, he would show you exactly how much.

“Get a move on lass! Movie’s startin!”

He sat on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, your favourite throw blanket beside him. This was your favourite part and you gleefully flopped yourself down, head in his lap as he pulled the blanket over you. As always, for the most part, the popcorn remained untouched as the movie played. Jack kept one hand playing with your hair, the other you claimed, splaying out his fingers and tracing them with your own. You loved his hands with their long, tapered fingers and large palms. You loved to watch them when he talked, to touch them in these moments, to feel them on you in others.

The movie played through, Jack’s usual commentary causing you to guffaw loudly and roll your eyes. His jokes were always overly corny and bad but you loved them, just as you loved him.

The movie over you sat up, one more part of the yearly ritual completed, the one you were looking forward to most still to come. You sat cross legged on the floor by the tree, lights twinkling and reflecting off the tinsel. Jack joined you, a mug of hot chocolate for each of you and a ridiculous looking santa hat perched on his head.

“Ohhhh sexy Santa!” you giggled when he shot you a dirty look.

“Who open’s first?”

“I do, it was your turn last year, remember?”

You clapped your hands with glee when he reached under the tree for a small package, wrapped in his signature style.

Messy, like a drunken elf had been let loose in the wrapping room.

He tried though, he really did, and it was endearing how proud he was of himself.

You tore into the wrapping, revealing a box made from leather and designed to look like an original edition of Persuasion.

“Oh Jack, it’s gorgeous!” you loved it, and you loved how well he knew you.

“Ye haf tae open it, silly goose.”

 

Of course. With Jack a gift was never that simple.

Inside the box was a purple velvet pillow on which lay a perfectly preserves stem of heather.

“It’s the same one ah gave ye the first time ah brought ye tae Scotland.”

He looked so damn pleased with himself, so hopeful and eager, like a giant puppy.

Your eyes welled.

“God dammit Jack, how do you even exist?”

Wiping your eyes with the back of your hands you leaned over, smooshing your face against his chest. Your hands rested on his knees, his ran up and down your back soothingly as you sniffled against him.

“I cannae tell if ye like it or hate it.” he murmured.

“I love it, you romantic goob.” you managed to sob, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing.

He laughed, extracting you from him and looking at you expectantly.

“My turn.”

That fucking smile of his got you every time. You literally could refuse him nothing or stay mad at him when he smiled at you. And you’d tried, a lot.

This Christmas Eve tradition of one gift had started with a bet the November of your first year together. He’d brought back some cheesy, meaningful gift from his press trip and you’d quipped about it. He’d bet you that you couldn’t out cheese him, that no one was as over-the-top romantic as he was. So far he’d won, all three Christmases, and this was the best yet. You had to hand it to him, the man knew what he was doing.

But you had him this year.

You giggled as he tore into his package like an excited child, wrapping paper flying around him.

He pulled out a small scrapbook, a project you’d been working on in secret for weeks. You watched him over the rim of your mug as he opened it, eyes scanning the pages you’d worked on meticulously.

“Ohhhhh wow.” he whispered, running fingers over pages filled with photos of your story from your first meeting to now. “This is amazin.”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob the way it only did when he was trying not to cry. There were letters from you to him on every page, your memories and feelings about each event, along with little souvenirs. It was as sappy and as cheesy as they came.

He closed it, blinking his suddenly very bright eyes before pulling you over to curl into his lap.

“I love it lass, and I love ye.”

You smiled, knowing what was coming. It was a draw right now, but you were about to take it for the win.

“You should check out the last page Jack, I left something extra special there.”

His brows rose, a smile on his lips as he opened his book again, flipping through to the end. You knew what was there, expected a reaction. Your husband didn’t disappoint. His mouth fell open, hands started shaking, tears welling up in his eyes.

Gotcha babe.

“Really? This is…….really?” he whispered incredulously.

He looked at the page again. It only contained three things that you’d managed to sneak in the already wrapped book the day before, while he was in the shower. There was a picture, black and white, fuzzy and labeled and underneath, two words written while you’d been crying.

“Hi Daddy.”


End file.
